To Never Let Go
by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer
Summary: Harry Potter's animagus is a snake and he's searching for his match. Another twist on soulmates. HPLV which practically is HPTR... Sorry, IGNORING HBP! Harry is Voldie's sole horcrux, if you will.
1. Would Have Been Together in Death

**To Never Let Go**

**By BEWD Sorcerer**

Disclaimer: Do you see this? Do you SEE THIS! I don't own Harry Potter! I admit it! T-T

_AN: Lookit the loverly first chapter of my interpretation of snakemates! _

**1. Would Have Been Together in Death**

It had started a couple weeks into the summer. Vernon was most displeased with being threatened and in public, no less. Yes, one could understate such a grave situation if one wasn't there to witness the beatings, which no one else was, just the Dursleys and Harry.

His list of injuries was lengthening faster than it was shrinking, being hurt faster than he could heal. Add in the fact that Sirius was dead and Harry could barely get up in the morning.

He was lucky that Vernon thought that he would catch a disease if he raped him; Harry thanked all the deities he had ever heard of extensively because that meant that Vernon warned Dudley off raping him and Dudley warned off his gang.

Harry was still thrashed within an inch of his life, but at least that was one occurrence that would never happen on Privet Drive. He cherished all the small miracles.

One of said miracles was that Hedwig was kept alive for the sole purpose of sending the Order letters that he was alright that Vernon had forced him to right two days after he got back.

The situation got really old really quickly and his temper was rising faster and easier each time he saw one of the Dursleys.

Then one of the times he was let out to use the bathroom and take a quick, cold shower when Vernon muttered something foul about Harry's parents, he snapped, lunging at the beefy man, but was caught and slammed back into the shower. Harry had been about to put on a shirt when it happened, so when he slammed into the bathtub he was only wearing a baggy pair of Dudley's old sweatpants.

Vernon turned on the water again, filling up the tub as Harry tried to regain his bearings. Then Harry snapped to attention as he felt his body start shivering with the bath mostly full of freezing cold water and Vernon looming over him.

"I won't be having you here anymore. You won't be bothering Dudley or distressing Petunia or being a burden on us any longer. This is the end." The walrus of a man came rushing at him.

**_Shift_**

The Headmaster had called for him hence why he was on his way to his office instead of brewing a potion. He had a bad feeling about this. There hadn't been any Death Eater meetings and Voldemort had been rather quiet since the beginning of summer.

After giving the griffin the password (lemon sticks) with one knock on the door, he enters only to find a very old looking Dumbledore. The man is obviously worrying himself into the grave about something or someone. He had a good idea who.

"Headmaster?" The older wizard looks up, face still grave, his eyes for once not twinkling.

"Severus, would you do me a favor? I'm terribly worried about Mr. Potter. His letters are dull and don't even make a veiled allusion to wanting to leave or asking what Voldemort-" Severus shudders."-is doing." Snape scoffs.

"So the brat finally realizes that he won't-" The look from Dumbledore stops his tirade immediately. "Yes, Headmaster, I'll go check up on him." The Potions Master leaves and Dumbledore sighs.

"Harry, please be alright."

**_Shift_**

The water is cold, chilling to the bone, and it does not help that he's suffocating, refusing to let the water into his lungs. The beefy hands gripping his neck are warmer than the rest of his body combined. Thin arms and legs are flailing about in an attempt to get away from the cold water. Weak hands slap at the walrus' purple face and shaky legs kick at the walrus' side.

It doesn't change anything.

The child suffocating under the water is becoming desperate, screaming mentally to make up for not being able to scream physically. The screams are of death and the cold. He knows someone is there, so faint, and he reaches out to shake them. Why aren't they helping? Why are they letting him die? The aching pain in his chest, the death looming closer, the cold seizing him and making him shiver.

Downstairs there are shouts and thumps, but the shuddering boy cannot hear it and the raging muggle is too intent upon his nephew's death. Loose fists slow their attack as do the scrawny legs and the muggle sneers in victory.

The door to the bathroom bursts open to reveal a disgusted man in flowing black robes, who becomes enraged when he sees the weakly struggling savior of the Wizarding world in the tub being strangled by his uncle. He rips the muggle off his tiny nephew then hauls the boy up. The child clings to black robes, eyes wide and blinking up at the feared teachers face comically. The black robed one would have laughed had it been another situation; he wouldn't have allowed the blue-lipped child to touch him, much less draw comfort from his presence had it been another situation.

The shouting purple muggle stays far enough away to not be an immediate threat as the older wizard sweeps away with the one recovering from another near-death experience. He summons the boy's trunk and other items, shrinking and securing them in his pockets. Purple muggle yelling himself hoarse tries to stop them, but gets blasted through a wall for his efforts. The snowy owl is set free to hunt and travel freely once more as the hook-nosed potions professor apparates them to the gateway of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where an old man and MediWitch wait impatiently.

**_Shift_**

Somewhere far away in a manor on a hilltop a snake bastard slowly rises from where he had fallen to the floor. He had been stalking through his room when the attack had come. He had been unable to breath, the feeling of freezing water enveloping him, fat hands choking him. Briefly he had seen flashes of a fat, purple-faced muggle raging, but behind him, and more importantly in said snake bastard's opinion, was a reflection of a malnourished teen with dark hair and green eyes, then an image of one of his Death Eaters infuriated face and embrace.

The Dark Lord scowled. Harry Potter had been attacked by what seemed to be his muggle caretakers and saved by Severus Snape. Harry Potter had nearly died, taking the most evil Dark Lord with him.

This did not bode well for said Dark Lord's wish to kill the Potter boy.

_**AN**: Sadly short chapter. I like Snape, so he's a good guy... ok, a guy on Harry's side, even though he doesn't want to at first. Dumbledore will be... well, you'll just have to read and see._


	2. Back at School

**To Never Let Go**

**By BEWD Sorcerer**

Disclaimer: Do you see this? Do you SEE THIS?! I don't own Harry Potter! I admit it! T-T

_AN: Happy Singles Awareness Day! I managed to squeeze this chapter out just for today. Ah hah. C'mon. Somebody laugh?_

**2. Back at School (might as well be home)**

The feeling pulled him down, down, down. Soft darkness enveloping him, clutched in his hands, filling his senses, Harry drifted, even as he vaguely realized that he was being carried by someone. There was a slight scent of smoke and flash of swallow skin, but he ignored it in favor of reveling in the feeling of safety like being held in a parent's arms - something he only barely remembered from when he was a baby. With this, he drifted off peacefully.

Before he was even fully awake, Harry knew he was in the Infirmary at Hogwarts. The smell of chemicals and the feel of starched sheets were enough, not to mention the blinding whiteness shining even through his shut eyelids.

Before he entered the Wizarding world, he had felt very odd when emotions that weren't his flowed through his body at odd times, having nothing to do with the present situation. Most of the time, they were too faint to affect him but ever since his first year at Hogwarts, the flashes had become more frequent and intense, such as now.

Agitation itched up his spine, along his skin. There had to be a change; the pressure on his mind had to be relieved. Not knowing what to do, he let go, allowing his magic to make the changes and then there was fire and pain, causing him to let out a piercing scream that was cut off as the darkness claimed him again.

**_Shift_**

Everything felt odd, especially since he had just dreamed about the little red string again. During the summer of his Fourth year, it had become more tangible, but he had hardly noticed it because of Voldemort's rebirth. The little red string that tied him to his soulmate...

Odd noises drew his attention away from the connection and he rose up to try to find what was making them. He vaguely recognized Dumbledore and Snape having a furious whispered conversation before he slipped off the bed gracefully, not even noticing how big everything looked.

Quietly he slithered over to where he could hear them but not be seen.

" - not going to be happy, Headmaster. You know as well as I do that he won't stand for any more of your machinations." Snape hissed at the calmly smiling old man.

"Then what do you propose?" Snape jerked back in response to the chill tone, eying the other warily. Both watched each other distrustfully until they were disturbed by a gasp.

"Mr. Potter, you shouldn't be out of bed," Madam Pomfrey clucked, scooping him up and carefully setting him back on the bed.

/What's going on?/ Harry hissed, belatedly realizing that he was speaking Parseltongue and no one in the room could understand him. When he finally came to the conclusion that he couldn't speak anything but the snake language, he noticed how strange his body was. Rearing up in shock, the fact that he was a snake making itself known.

"Mr. Potter, take this," Madam Pomfrey offered him a pipet full of a cloudy yellow potion. Having no choice but to open his mouth and allow the potion to be squirted into his mouth, Harry did so, grimacing as it burned going down his throat. The next few moments were spent thrashing in pain as the burn consumed his senses, hissing screams issuing from his mouth as his body was forced into the change. When it was finally over, Harry glared up at the three adults. Poppy was looking unsure of herself for the first time in front of a student, Snape appeared a bit disturbed even as he attempted to glare holes into Dumbledore, who was acting completely unconcerned.

"What wasss that about?!" Harry hissed, rearing back when realized how serpentine his speech still was. "What'ss going on?!"

"Harry, my boy - " Dumbledore started to say with a big smile. _How dare he smile when even Madam Pomfrey seems unsure! What's wrong this time? What is he not telling me?_

"Don't you 'Harry, my boy' me, Dumbledore! What the hell iss happening to me?" He snarled, earning a chiding from Madam Pomfrey and a calculating look from Snape.

"You've found your animagus form, Potter, not to mention you were nearly drowned by your uncle. Care to explain that?" Pursing his lips, the dark-haired teen seemed to crumple, pulling in on himself, face falling from pissed off to emotionless as he shook his head.

"Leave him be, Severus. The house elves will have re-arranged to allow his room by now. Once Madam Pomfrey has deemed him well enough to live the night, you can show him the way and help him settle in." With that, the Headmaster left, most likely to go have his next dose of lemony sugar, and that seemed to be the signal for the resident MediWitch to start casting her diagnostic spells for everything from broken bones to the Wizard Flu.

"Well, after a nutrition potion," she handed him a murky green concoction that tasted like spinach, "a potion to heal up that concussion," purple with black specks in it that tasted like medicinal licorice, " and another Dreamless Sleep Potion for tonight, you are free to be dragged off to the dungeons." A glance at Snape revealed nothing as Harry shakily got up and followed the sweeping form of his Potions teacher. Most of the walk was silent except for the sounds of their footsteps and rustle of their clothes. When they reached the Entrance Hall, Harry opened his mouth to say something - anything, but his professor beat him to it.

"The Headmaster has decided that you are to be in my care for the rest of the summer. First, you must remember that I am a busy man. Second, you must know that I have experience with abused students such as yourself, so do not hesitate to request counseling if needed. Do not take advantage of this privilege you have been allowed," the older wizard drawled, still sweeping along at a swift clip with Harry hurrying along after.

"Yes, sir," the mess-haired teen assured him quickly just before they stopped in front of what appeared to be a large picture of the night sky.

"Lumos maxima," Snape declared clearly for Harry's benefit, of course and the frame easily swung open, allowing them into a comfy (if darkly colored) living room. Striding ahead of the smaller wizard, Snape pointed out the two halls on opposite ends of the room.

"The hall on the right leads to my bedroom, potions lab, and study." Harry could see three doors in the hall, so he had no doubt that what he said was, in fact, truth. "This hall leads to your room. Each of the bedrooms have a connected bathroom. I will allow you to sleep in tomorrow morning, but after that if you aren't up by eight I will assume you are incapacitated and use you as a guinea pig for experimental potions, is that clear?" Turning to face his student when he didn't get an immediate response, Snape was surprised to see the boy nodding rapidly, obviously frightened of such a fate befalling him. He felt a headache coming on at the over dramatic response, so he ushered the Gryffindor to his room and left to work on the potion he had originally planned to work on that day.

**_Shift_**

Miles and miles away, a certain Dark Lord found the book he had been searching for and - after reading the paragraph that detailed the facts of such a bonding of souls, blood, and minds - screamed bloody murder.

_AN: Kaylais Evenstar LIVES! #gape# I'm so friggin' happy! #heart#_


	3. Alone with Your Thoughts

**To Never Let Go**

**By BEWD Sorcerer**

Disclaimer: Do you see this? Do you SEE THIS?! I don't own Harry Potter! I admit it! T-T

_AN: Eh heh heh. Er, sorry? I'm finally updating! This one was rather hard to get out because Voldie didn't want to talk and Harry just wanted to pass out or go bug Snape, who would undoubtedly do something drastic._

_DH was dreadful and I had a smashing time poking through all the holes and batting at the loose strings when my dad finally finished reading it. The Epilogue should be ripped out and burned, really. Cliches and confusion. Gag me._

_Well, not really, but -_

_And without further ado:_

**3. Alone with Your Thoughts **

It was unthinkable - the absolute worst thing that could have possibly happened to him. Hell, he didn't even know it was possible! Worst of all, it was his fault, completely and undeniably his fault. Steepling his finger before him, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, Voldemort hissed softly in annoyance.

Because if he hadn't rushed off to kill Harry Potter then they wouldn't have a connection between their minds. If he hadn't used the Potter boy's blood to gain a body fit to house his soul, they wouldn't be blood bound. And if he hadn't possessed the boy's body in the Atrium, their souls wouldn't have come into close enough contact to seek balance in the form of a binding, making them (as some sickeningly romantic fools would say) soulmates.

And it was all his fault. He sighed deeply, shifting slightly in his seat.

Yet, there was a sliver of hope. Because their bond was created in such an unorthodox way he had until Potter's 17th birthday to sever it completely or no amount of magic could separate them. He refused to be bonded to the boy Prophesied as his downfall, so there was only choice open to him. There wouldn't even be the link to the curse scar if he had his way.

Stifling another sigh, Voldemort stood, restraining the urge to throw a royal fit. Instead, he carefully replaced the book on the shelf and strolled out of his library, pondering what he should attempt first. The bond wouldn't allow either of them to harm the other and would actually start to pull them together as it matured, so another attempt on the boy's life would merely hasten the inevitable.

If he could sever even one of the ties, then their impending attachment could be prevented, but if he broke the connection between their minds, there was a high chance of them both going completely, irrevocably mental like Frank and Alice Longbottom. Destroying the body he had was out of the question and the only other option was to cut the tie between their souls. How could he possibly have the Golden Boy kill someone and split their souls without getting himself killed? Quite possibly if he were to have another run-in with Bellatrix... but he would be more likely to turn her over to the authorities like he would have done with Wormtail.

He entered his rooms, snarling, and summoned a bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey with a glass to him, pouring and knocking back the first glass quickly. He welcomed the scorching burn. Taking his time on the second glass, he pondered as he settled into his chair before the fireplace.

Occlumency was near impossible against the boy, but that also meant that he had free access to the boy's mind at any time. There was no defense he could put up to keep the Dark Lord out even if he had learned properly. The connection they had could not be blocked in any successful way, so if someone entered the boy's mind, there was a high chance that they could find and use the connection to enter the Dark Lord's mind.

"Damn. If someone found the connection and used it, then I'd have a harder time pushing them out because I'd have to force them out of the boy's mind as well or they'd just come right back," he muttered to himself, taking another drink. Whichever way he looked at it, leaving the boy to try to protect their joined minds from the nosey codger and the boy's farce of an Occlumency teacher was out of the question. He'd have to do it himself.

With a put-upon sigh, Voldemort finished his Firewhiskey and got ready for bed before climbing into his four poster. Soft, cotton sheets with a high thread count and down mattress with similar pillows comforted him. Never again would he have to suffer on rock hard beds with flimsy bedclothes. Now if only he could find who was connected to him by the little, red string on his pinky, the one he was tied to by Fate.

_**Shift**_

Harry sat on his bed, idly kicking his feet. The room assigned to him was rather neutral, beige and black, though there were highlights of dark red. Not what he was expecting in the least. The main room had been darkly colored, but not a touch of silver anywhere. Stone as the rest of the castle was, but plush carpets and velvet uphoulstry on the two chairs with a matching couch before the fireplace. Comfy was the word and Harry never thought to use it with anything dealing with his great bat of a Potions professor. That's undoubtedly what it was, though.

Not quite sure what to do, he did nothing. Disturbing the other occupant of the dungeons was not to be considered unless in a dire emergency - and maybe not even then. Boredom was, unfortunately, not considered such, though it was becoming increasingly annoying.

Snape may have offered to counsel him, but he doubted that the man really wanted to hear about his childhood. He already knew of most of it, anyway, because of the Occlumency lessons. In all honesty, Harry didn't want to go through the ridicule all over again. Not that Snape would believe most of it, especially about him being locked in a cupboard.

Shaking himself out of his depressing thoughts on his failed Occlumency lessons and their results, he glanced at the clock. Nine forty-nine, it said, so he hauled himself up from the bed to brush his teeth and put on his pajamas, though he could have comfortably have slept in the clothes he was in so baggy and soft after years of wearing them they were. He settled into the bed easily once he was done, hoping fervently for a night of undisturbed sleep.

Not likely, but he could always hope...

_**Shift**_

Only a few rooms over, Severus Snape settled into bed after kicking off his shoes. In one hand, he held a new potions theory book and in the other rested a glass of brandy. Though he tried, he couldn't focus properly on his book, so he had allowed his thoughts free reign only a few moments before.

Would the Dark Lord call soon? He always did seem to know when Potter was moved prematurely. Eerie how that was. Chalking it up to their mental bond, the Potions Master shrugged it off. The Dark Lord was eerie, the Potter boy was odd and annoying... _and _abused.

Now _that _was not something he wanted to think about. Despite having offered to counsel the boy, he doubted that his offer would be accepted. Their less than pleasant previous experiences would not endear him to the boy in the least. He meant it when he offered it, but he wouldn't force his presence unless it was becoming ridiculous.

Hopefully, the Headmaster would not try to force him to listen to the boy if his offer was accepted. That, unfortunately, wasn't likely to happen. He gave it a week before Dumbledore 'asked' him to resume Potter's Occlumency lessons and/or talk to him about his time with his Muggle relatives.

Closing his book, he set it on his bedside table, finishing the last bit of his drink and brushing his teeth with a spell. He would just have to see what happened. No real use worrying about the three strongest wizards in Britain that each had a say in his life, not that Potter knew that. He'd deal with them in the morning.

"Nox," he murmured as he shifted to lay down. Sleep would help him more than worrying at this point. The Wizarding World didn't know at this point and the Dark Lord would be calling for him within the next couple days. Clearing his mind, Severus drifted off to sleep.

_**TBC...**_

_AN: Phew! I did it! Snape got his own time this chapter because Harry and Voldie skipped out after only a little bit and I couldn't allow this chapter to be shorter than the one before it. #sweatdrop# I hope it turned out alright..._

_Right. I'm having major issues with Writer's Block because when it finally lets me get something out I'm too tired to do much other than sketch a few things out and hope Lady Draculea doesn't mind me taping plotbunnies on the wall to get a different perspective on them._


	4. How Far It Has Gone

**To Never Let Go**

**By BEWD Sorcerer**

Disclaimer: #looks at self in a mirror# Do I really look like a middle-aged woman that has quite a bit of money because of her imaginative desperation led her to writing a child's novel? I don't have kids. I don't write children's novels. I don't think I could easily write something remotely platonic in relationships. Eh heh... Too many sex scenes have me still burnt out, though, so... fluffling around before they meet, it is! Yay. #sweatdrop#

_AN: Yeah, I know some of you find the extended 's'es extremely retarded and/or annoying, but it's just a reminder that he's having speach issues. I will inform those who actually read this that it isn't permanent, so do not dispair._

**4. How Far It Has Gone**

Waking up had been significantly different each time for Harry the past few days. This time things were once again seemingly misproportioned, but at least he didn't have the Headmaster and his Potions professor arguing not-so quietly about something. He still wasn't quite sure, but he had the feeling it was concerning him.

_"I'm a snake again, aren't I?"_ He looked down at his body. _"Sometimes I almost hate when I'm right."_ Looking around, he was thankfully still in his room at Hogwarts and not kidnapped. Harry hissed softly, slithering to the edge of the bed and directing his gaze down.

Why did beds have to be so high up? Had the inventor giggled inanely at the thought of small animagi falling to their deaths from that height? Perhaps his imagination was getting the better of him, he had to conclude after a moment. This, however, didn't help him in his quest to get to the ground safely.

Eying the nearest of the bed's legs, Harry approached it, pondering how many different ways a simple plan could go awry. He attempted anyway. Despite his misgivings, the Gryffindor was surprised to find that snakes can cling quite successfully to cylindrical objects, especially if said objects have a design or even a good texture to cling to.

Safe on the ground, he hissed out a sigh of relief before opening his eyes. He found that his perspective was drastically different, fascinating even. Stretching out, he gave in to his curiosity and began exploring things from his new vantage point. It wasn't dusty under the furniture, thankfully, as the house elves took their jobs very seriously.

The room was much bigger or rather since Harry was much smaller it seemed bigger, but in any case exploring the room didn't stay interesting for long. Feeling certain pains in his stomach, he realized that he was hungry and did not want to annoy his potions professor any more than he absolutely had to. Of course, being a snake is very detrimental when needing to pass through a closed door. He'd have to do something about that if he kept changing into his animagus form, perhaps get his door to open upon being commanded to in Parseltongue until he figured out how to revert whenever he wished.

Until then, he decided to hiss at it to open until Snape came to get him up. Hopefully, the older wizard wouldn't be too upset about it. He had a feeling that his professor would be. It didn't take too long for something to happen.

The door opened and Severus Snape peeked his head in. Upon noticing that the bed was empty, his lips tugged down slightly at the ends. Hissing drew his attention to a vaguely familiar snake on the floor.

"Potter," the man growled, frown increasing. "Are you going to make it a habit of transforming in your sleep?" He received a hissed response, but of course could not understand what was being said. "Stay here," he commanded before leaving to dig a Reversal potion out of his private stores. Having not much of a choice, Harry waited, undulating and appreciating his snake form while he could.

_**--Shift--**_

Spreadeagled out on his bed, the Dark Lord Voldemort glared death at the floating dust motes lit up by the morning sun. He had woken that morning in his animagus form. While this wasn't entirely unfamiliar, it hadn't happened in a long time and the fact that he still had an animagus form was encouraging since he was in a new body. The problem lay in that this was a sign of the bond with one Harry Potter was strengthening.

The stronger the bond became, the more painful breaking it would be. Pain wasn't an issue for him, not really after all those experiments he had performed on his first body, but there was also a chance that if the bond became too strong even Harry tearing his soul through murder would not break it.

Hissing curses in Parseltongue, Voldemort got out of bed and decided on bathing first. This issue would require a lot thought because if their bond wasn't broken in time all of his work would be undone.

_**--Shift--**_

A few moments later, his Potions professor came striding back, carrying a pipet of cloudy yellow potion. He knew what he was expected to do and reluctantly rose up, opening his mouth and bracing himself for the pain. It was worse than yesterday and Harry was left panting on the ground as he tried to soothe his screaming muscles. Once he had gotten himself somewhat under control, he looked up at his scowling professor.

"Do you know why thiss hurtss sso much?" The scowl on Snape's face darkening briefly before smoothing out.

"Follow me, Potter," he commanded, turning on his heel and sweeping off. Scrambling to his feet, Harry obeyed, confused and sore. The older man was seated in front of the fireplace, a table with breakfast spread out over its top between the his chair and an empty one. "Have a seat."

Playing with the idea of refusing, Harry hesitated, but took a seat after seeing Snape raise an expectant eyebrow at him. He must have known and Harry didn't care to make such a fuss for such a childish reason, not this early in the morning, at least.

"Eat, but listen because I will only explain this once," the sallow-skinned man ordered, ignoring the annoyed look he received from his student. "The headmaster will not be pleased to know I'm telling you about this, but knowledge is power because an educated response is better than one made at random, no matter how lucky the person may have proven to be in the past." Snape smiled thinly at him as he picked a few pancakes to eat.

"Normally when wizards or witches seek to become animagi, they study and practice for years to achieve their goal. In the case of a certain few, they may or may not be even aware that they have the ability to change into a certain animal when suddenly they do. This normally happens when they are asleep, but the trigger is the strengthening of a bond with another witch or wizard or even a magical creature."

Harry had stopped eating, staring at the man across from him. The strengthening of a bond with another? This had to be with the one on the other side of the red string, the one he was destined to be with! Why did Snape look so upset? The very fact that he could tell this was worrying enough.

"This bond has always in the past been a soul mate bond and even if the two or those that surrounded them objected, no one has ever been able to break that bond without causing death or insanity to the bonded pair. There have been attempts, of course, and numerable books of research and literature on the subject. Perhaps you have heard of 'Romeo and Juliet'?" Harry's eyes went wide at that. Who _hadn't _heard of those star-crossed lovers? Even he who had been locked in a cupboard for a large part of his life had heard about it and knew the very basic story.

"They were... ssoul matess?"

"Shakespeare had unwittingly known a pair of soul mates and, upon seeing their devotion to each other, wrote that play in honor of their bond. However, he is not the only one and though I encourage the exposure to such well-written works you would do better to focus your time on reading actual research journals on the subject as they will give you the known facts rather than simple entertainment," Snape explained calmly, his minuscule smile having slipped away a while ago. The slight pop of the fire drew their attention to the head now floating among the now green flames.

"Ah, Severus, I was wondering when you would be up. I need to speak to you in my office right away." Snape inclined his head towards the fire and Dumbledore's head looked at Harry. "Let's see you put on some weight, m'boy! You're a skeleton as it is." His head disappeared with a pop and the fire returned to it's normal coloring.

"I should be back soon. Do _try _not to get into too much trouble," the older wizard deadpanned as he stood and made for the door to his quarters. Sighing, Harry started poking at his pancakes, mentally debating whether he should eat some bacon or eggs as well.

_**--Shift--**_

Bacon or eggs? Scowling, Voldemort eyed the food laid out before him critically. His pancakes were tasty, but there was something else he wanted to eat. He just wasn't sure exactly what it was. Growling softly to himself about his indecision, he snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite out of it. His choice had been the correct one he realized as he calmly continued to eat the strip of bacon. Maybe he'd have another piece after eating a bit more of his pancakes.

Feeling strangely expectant, Voldemort scowled. Was he waiting for someone? No, he didn't think so. The image of Severus Snape flashed through his mind and his scowl darkened. He was not waiting for the Potions Master, he knew that, but then why was he feeling as if he were?

Closing his eyes, the Dark Lord carefully tapped into the connection he shared with the Potter boy and felt that he was sitting in front of a breakfast table with the chair across from him empty. He was at Hogwarts, but the place where he was placed was new - not Gryffindor Tower - and he had easy access to the Potions Master, who was absent at the moment. Dumbledore had called him away. The boy had pancakes on his plate and was reaching for a second piece of bacon.

Slipping away, he bared his teeth in annoyance even as his own dining room came back into focus. Potter hadn't even noticed him there and though that was a good thing they were already making similar choices - pancakes and bacon. He would have to check several more times, but this was not a reassuring find if he wanted to be separated from the brat.

Voldemort would have to work quickly.

_**AN: **__Yeah, these chapters are short, but they come out faster than the other ones! Also, if I don't get many reviews, then I think that people aren't reading my fics and if people aren't reading my fics, then why should I update? 'Hits' can be built up through the same person going to that chapter multiple times. #pouts# _

_If people simply want me to update, then tell me what you think of the chapter. If you just want me to update for the sake of updating, then forget it. I can leave these stories hanging since I get distracted so easily._


End file.
